


Refuge

by FireSoul



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Gen, Missing Scene, Sort Of, post 3.15
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 05:42:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14037408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireSoul/pseuds/FireSoul
Summary: Takes place after 3.15 "Necromancing the Stone".Sara has a lot to deal with after being possessed by Mallus, Mick sort of has a history of helping her through tough times, but this might be a little much even for him. Maybe.





	Refuge

**Author's Note:**

> So despite the MANY other things that I should writing right now, after last nights episode, I just needed this, and it ended up being longer than planned but oh well!

_It’s been weeks now._

_They’ve been here for weeks, and she just wants to go home. But instead she’s in this house, this strange house with nothing around it. No neighbors, no buildings, no nothing. Actually, there is nothing. If you run out one end of the yard you somehow end up back at the other, like this house is in the center of a wormhole of some kind._

_It’s a good thing that she likes kids, Sara thinks to herself as she’s trying to fall asleep, because all that she does here is help Madam Xavier, she won’t call the woman mother, care for a bunch of little orphans._

_She won’t call herself an orphan either._

_She isn’t like these kids; she has a family, a family who must be worried sick about her. But she’s stuck here, supposedly for her own safety but it’s driving her insane. She can’t go on like this. She can’t go on spending her nights soothing away the nightmares of little boys and girls only to lie down and face her own. She can’t keep crying into the early hours of the morning, she can’t-_

_“Hey,” A voice from her doorway startles her, and she sits up to see Mick, the boy brought here with her, standing with his arms folded across his chest. “Would you keep it down? I’m trying to sleep next door.”_

_At first Sara only blinks at him, her mind slow to process what he’s asked of her. Then she realizes that she’s been crying louder than she’s meant, and she reaches up to wipe away the tears._

_“Sorry,” she mutters and he nods, doesn’t say anything, and then turns to go._

_“Wait,” she calls, unsure of why she has, but he turns back and, well, now she has to say something. “Would you… would you stay in here? Until I fall asleep?”_

_He knits his brow together, more than confused, but she holds his gaze with frightened eyes until he huffs._

_“If it’ll get you to shut up,” he mutters as he drags his feet across the floor and sits down on the edge of her bed._

_His hand hovers awkwardly over her knee for a minute after she’s settled herself, then even more awkwardly lands on the area. They avoid looking at each other, neither of them sure of what to do now._

* * *

 

“I know you’re awake, Boss.”

_“Dammit,”_ Sara thinks with a sniffle, but there’s really no honesty behind it. It’s been a long day, to say the least. This morning she felt the happiest that she has in a long time, and now she feels like she’s been shattered into a million pieces.

It’s really no wonder Mick is standing in her doorway.

She has her back to him, having chosen to sleep on this side because in the back of her mind a part of her knew he would be coming. It’s what she and him do.

When she doesn’t say anything he lets himself into the room and walks around to the far side of the bed, the side she is facing. He doesn’t say anything as he lowers himself onto the mattress and places his hand on top of her knee, rubbing back and forth in soothing strokes.

* * *

 

_Sara tenses the instant he touches her. Not because his touch is unwanted, but because she doesn’t know him, not really, and she has no idea where to go from here._

_He doesn’t seem to have any idea, either, and just sits there frozen until an involuntary hiccup of a cry comes out of her mouth._

_“I just want to go home.” She murmurs in a small voice._

* * *

 

She sniffles, inhaling one shaky breath after another, and he waits patiently. It’s her turn to say something, anything, but she can take as long as she needs. They never talk about how this thing started, about those two kids at the refuge who were scared out of their minds for reasons they didn’t even know. During those days they only had each other. When they were finally returned home she’d hidden the amnesia pill in the back of her cheek, she didn’t exactly trust Rip. She couldn’t be sure, but she had suspected Mick had done the same. By the time she ended up on that rooftop Mick Rory was nearly a forgotten memory to her anyway, as was Sara Lance to him. Too much shit had happened since the refuge, so neither of them brought up those few weeks so far back in their pasts; not even when they went and collected their younger selves.

All that changed, however, when Leonard sacrificed himself.

She showed up in his room that night and they mourned his friend, her something, together. They still haven’t talked about the refuge, not with words, but even unspoken the memories have been acknowledged.

“I thought I was past all this,” she squeaks through her tears before curling in on herself even tighter and rubbing almost violently at her eyes. “But…” a shuddering breath interrupts her, “There’s no getting past it, is there?”

He sighs, low, and resigned, and sorry. His hand lengthening the gentle strokes to reach up to where her thigh meets her hip and then back to her knee.

“I don’t know,” he rumbles low, not quite hopeless but almost, and it’s enough to break any piece of her walls left standing.

* * *

 

He hates seeing Sara like this.

She’s so tough, and brave, that it scares him when something shakes her this badly. Snart was probably the last thing to do it. Well, him and her sister, but those were pretty much the same day so he can’t really tell where the pain of one ended and the other began; he doubts that even she could. They’ve comforted each other in hard times since then. After The Professor’s death, after Vietnam, even the first night fake Snart was on board. But this, this is a whole new bag of demons he isn’t sure he knows how to console her through. Before today he would’ve answered her question with _no._ He would’ve told her there is no getting past a darkness like this, ever, but now there’s a string around his neck with a trinket that has decided he’s worthy to wield it’s power.

For so long the fire was his darkness, his greatest regret, and a demon he long ago accepted would always be rearing its ugly head against him in one way or another. But suddenly that’s all changed, and the fire is no longer his heaviest burden, but his greatest power.

Sara chokes out another cry and begins curl in even tighter on herself, his uncertainty obviously having demolished any remaining hope she had left. He’s careful as he guides her to sit up, making sure she still has control even though he knows she’s at the point of following his lead. He scoots himself down until they’re nearly eye-to-eye and then wraps an arm around her trembling shoulders. She melts into the embrace, her face burying deep into his broad chest and hands clutching tightly to the fabric of his shirt as loud sobs wrack through her body. He keeps one hand on her back, rubbing gently up and down while the other remains steady on her shoulder with only his thumb gliding back and forth. For the most part they say nothing, Sara is too preoccupied with the tears that need to get out and he can’t think of any words that will fix this.

“You’re gonna be fine,” he eventually whispers into her ear, “You got us.”

She sniffles at that, and then begins nearly hyperventilating trying to stop her tears.

“You… You… You…” She keeps choking, even as Mick sits them up in an attempt to help her. This gives him the first real looks he’s been able to get at her, the first real glimpse of her normally pale face blotched with red and her hair matted and sticking out at odd angles.

“Shh...” he whispers, reaching out and smoothing her hair while one hand still remains firm on her shoulder. “Take your time,” he tells her but it does little good.

“I… I don’t want to hurt you.” She finally manages in barely anything more than a squeak, a fresh batch of tears surging down her cheeks as soon as the words are out.

Scared, Mick moves the hand in her hair to cradle her jaw and brush away the tears. She grabs at the hand but instead of pushing him away like he thinks she might she curls her fingers around his palm and holds it there. He lets her cry another few seconds longer before looking her in the eyes, taking the hand on her shoulder and using it to brush away any stray hairs still in her face to ensure that she sees his firm gaze.

“I know,” he tells her, “But I know you Sara, we all do. Even if right now you think that you could, when it comes down to it, you won’t.”

“I almost killed Nate today,” she gasps but he won’t have it.

“But you didn’t.” He reminds her, “Listen to me. You could’ve killed Ray today and none of us would’ve known till after. You could’a killed Wally, and Zari, and Nate. You had the power to kill all four of ‘em, but you didn’t.” It kills him to see her like this, looking at him through glassy eyes like he’s her only anchor in the world. Snart would’ve been so much better at this, he thinks, but Snart isn’t here. It’s just him and Sara, terrified over what’s going to become of her.

He doesn’t say anything more, and with another onslaught of tears Sara collapses forwards and winds her arms around his torso. They stay like that for who knows how long, until they eventually end up lying down again; Mick’s head on a pillow and Sara’s on his chest.

At some point she falls asleep, though not before thanking him for being here. He responds with one simple word, “always,” and she drifts off not long after. As he lays there staring up at her ceiling, the weight of her on him starting to become uncomfortable but there is no way he’s going to move her. He starts to wonder just how much changed today. He wonders if maybe he can overcome his demons, or if not even the fire totem will be enough to save him. He wonders the same about Sara. These past two years he’s watched her leave her demons and her past behind her, and he’s envied it, yet here she is back at square one. Maybe it’s all one big circle and there is no escaping. Maybe the two of them are just destined to be forever tormented by the mistakes of their past and it’s only a matter of time until it kills them.

 

* * *

 

_Sara has long since fallen asleep, and as uncomfortable as his bed here is her floor is worse, so Mick really can’t understand why it is that he’s still lying here using his arm for a pillow and a ridiculously thin throw blanket for warmth. He supposes that it’s because she’s here for the same reason he is, whatever that reason is. He knows they’re different than the other kids; that supposedly they’re going to get to go home while the others are stuck here indefinitely. But they’re also stuck not knowing. At least these other kids know why they’re here, though he isn’t sure he understands what they mean when they talk about growing up to be “Time Masters,” five-year-olds aren’t the best at explaining things and Miss. X won’t talk about it to him, just tells him “Not to worry his little head”._

_Sighing he glances up at the girl sleeping on the bed above him. They’ve become friends these past few weeks, or at least something close to it. He wonders if after all this is over and they go home, if he’ll still have her._

_Probably not._

* * *

 

With his hand still securely on the small of Sara’s back Mick feels himself starting drift off, a piece of his mind still convinced that there is no escaping this cycle of darkness for either of them.

But, he thinks as he takes note of Sara’s sleeping face nestled comfortably on his chest, (comfortable for her, anyway) he’s been wrong before.


End file.
